


once more

by savemeaplate



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Alternate Universe - Prostitution, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Brothel Worker Keith, Brothels, Come Eating, Come Swallowing, Creampie, Dirty Talk, Dubious Consent, Flirting, Humor, Intercrural Sex, M/M, Marathon Sex, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Rough Sex, Royal Emissary Shiro, Sexual Humor, Shiro is filthy, Size Difference, Size Kink, oversensitivity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-07
Updated: 2019-07-07
Packaged: 2020-06-23 19:16:15
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19707745
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/savemeaplate/pseuds/savemeaplate
Summary: A sudden storm derails Shiro's royal trip from Arus. He goes to a seaport brothel for Regris's benefit. He stays for Keith's company.





	once more

**Author's Note:**

> sooooo i started watching harlots on hulu and... well, this happened.
> 
> also, i have a tumblr now - https://www.tumblr.com/blog/savemeaplate

The rain comes abruptly, a thing misjudged. It makes off with visibility. Shiro and his men post up for the night in a no-name earthen inn that smells like stale beer and stacked, sweaty bodies. The storm muscles them into another day’s hard-riding. 

They force their horses into a teeth-breaking sprint, after their night spent in the inn. The trees beside them liquefy into disorienting obscurity, and after a few hours at this pace, Shiro’s tailbone hurts so badly he can feel it in the back of his neck. 

But the rain follows them like a debtor. 

Antok stops them. They pause under cover of a particularly hearty tree. Shiro’s only ever seen a tree this big in one of Oriande’s enchanted forests. Granted, this one isn’t trying to cut his spleen out with its branches. But it’s no less impressive for being amiable.

Regris huffs frustratedly. “Our audience is in three days!”

“Our audience will wait. I couldn’t tell your ugly ferret’s nest of a face from a gnarly tree, in this rain.”

“This isn’t a  _ ferret’s nest _ ,” Regris retorts as he runs defensive fingers through his beard. “It’s upholstery, and I assure you, there hasn’t been a creature from Feyiv to Oriande who hasn’t found it to their liking.”

Regris winks conspiratorially at Shiro.

Kinkade groans. “ _ Please  _ don’t make me search for a way to drown myself in this storm.”

“No one dies until we secure these trade routes,” Antok notes, peering out into the forest with a thoughtful look.

Regris rolls his eyes. “Our tenderhearted leader.”

“And which war did we win with our  _ tender hearts _ again?”

Shiro fights a smile. “The trees were beginning to thin,” he looks up briefly, “with this obvious exception. Arvid is a port wood—we can stay in one of the inns on the dock.”

Antok smiles at him good-naturedly, like he fed him the words. It’s strange—another leader of their team of emissaries would balk at the notion of yielding any bit of control to those they outranked. Even if that control took the shape of a suggestion.  _ Especially  _ if that control took the shape of a suggestion. Poison travels furthest on the back of innocuity. But Antok trusts Shiro like he’d raised him. In a way, Shiro supposes, he had.

“Hmmm,” Regris hums, bringing a hand back to his beard. “We  _ are  _ in Arvid! Port Easthedge to the South?”

Kinkade squints at him. “Gods, you  _ cannot  _ be thinking of that right now. We’re on royal business!”

“We are on  _ a break _ ,” Regris replies.

Kinkade looks to Antok for support. “My lord...”

Antok raises a brow in thought. He turns to Regris. 

“Don’t make a spectacle of yourself.”

Regris laughs in delight. Kinkade groans as if Antok had told him to stay out here all night. 

As they’re preparing to lead their horses out into the storm once more, Regris throws an arm around Shiro’s shoulders.

“And  _ you _ , oh Saintly One, will be accompanying me tonight.”

Shiro begins to protest. “Regris, I—”

“Relax, my friend.” He winks at Shiro again. “You’ll like this.”

―

Shiro’s been to brothels before, and he’s no virgin. Not that the two have anything to do with each other. There are no shortage of brothels back in Arus, but they’d never really appealed to Shiro. He’d gone a few times with the other town-boys while he was still a cobbler’s apprentice. Snuck in with some silver pieces in his pocket that would remain there all night. And then he’d gone a few more times, with his sword brothers, while he was still in the guard. 

Shiro is not Arusian. Not by birth, only by naturalization. He knew well what it was like to look into a blue-eyed face and hope for the tepid curiosity, not the iron hot disgust. He knew what it was like to beg the sun to cloak itself in cloud, so that his skin wouldn’t swallow down the day’s light and become brown with it, a color like a wicker basket. Just so he wouldn’t have to stand next to all the pale Arusian town-boys, a mid-morning attraction. 

He already knew all of those things. They flitted around his shoulders, wrapped themselves around his neck, loose. Like they were playing a children’s game with him. But to walk into those brothels, and to see all those things staring back at him, dosed with measures of practiced charm—

It was too much. He couldn’t do it. The other boys, his sword brothers… they joked that there must’ve been something wrong with him. That if Aphrodite herself rubbed her tits in his face, he’d offer to get her blouse for her. 

But he didn’t mind. He liked the jests. 

There was the guilt, too. He would sit in the corner, nursing a goblet, watch some beauty climb into some mercenary’s lap. And he would find himself thinking about it, how circumstance corrupted the ability of the brothel maids to give themselves freely. They could refuse patrons… but could they really? Money offers security like little else.

And the other, simpler, remarkably less depressing reason why he didn’t particularly like the Arusian brothels was their stunning lack of diversity in terms of… type. 

Shiro liked women. The first person he’d ever loved was a woman. A human woman. Barring his history with Arus, maybe he would’ve slept with one or more of the country’s brothel maids. But he also liked human men. And fairies, and nymphs, and elves. 

And Arusian brothels didn’t have much in the way of that diversity. Hell, Arus didn’t have much in the way of any diversity. Decades of harsh, human-centric initiatives had seen to that. 

The brothel that Regris brings Shiro to indicts Arus for keeping the identities of its workers in a single dimension. When they walk in, there is a group of naiads, in the back, playing with a standing fountain. They smile and giggle when they see the men. Regris grins back. 

A long-haired elf with skin like burnished wood rests against a settee next to a portrait window. He makes slow work of dragging brilliant golden eyes up and down Shiro’s body. 

Shiro feels himself blush.

A pretty jade-skinned creature in a gorgeous, forest green robe saunters up to them. He (Shiro isn’t sure why he makes the assumption, but he does) looks human, barring the, er, green skin, but his ears are pointed, like an elf’s. 

He bows. “You honor us with your visit, my lords.”

“You honor us with your welcome,” Regris replies, grinning wolfishly.

Shiro resists the childish urge to roll his eyes.

“Lord Omu, Lord Shirogane, you are celebrated for your deft diplomacy and remarkable heroism even here, in Easthedge. Take your pick of our delights.”

Regris smirks at him. “I would like to delight in you.”

Shiro wants to groan. Shiro doesn’t think Regris could turn it off even if he tried.

The man smirks back at Regris. “And if you whisk me away, who will tend house?”

“I’m sure you run this house with no shortage of discipline. Can not one of your beauties take care of things in your stead?”

The creature gives a breathless laugh. “You are adamant.”

“And you are beautiful.”

“I am expensive.”

“I can pay.”

The creature looks up at Regris with a bewildered little smile. Yeah, Shiro knows where they’re coming from—he’s never met anyone quite like Regris either.

“Do you have a name, beautiful thing?”

The man pushes a strand of hair behind his ear. “Taurus.”

“Well, Taurus, you’ve given me the chance to use your name in the light. Will you permit me to use it in the dark, as well?”

“Oh Lord Omu, too many of my  _ charms  _ are lost to the dark.” The green robe slips slightly from Taurus’s shoulder, a calculation made effortless. “If you do not tire too easily, I may join you later this evening.”

Taurus turns to Shiro and smiles. “Now, Lord Shirogane, let’s see about getting you accomodated.”

―

Regris chooses one of the naiads from before, a pretty little thing with glittering river stone eyes and deep blue hair, almost black. She leads Regris upstairs giggling, like they’re about to play a game.

Taurus walks around the main room with Shiro some more, and the brothel workers glance at him with coy eyes, waiting. Shiro tamps down the blush that wants to come back to his face.

Topically, he understands that Taurus wants to give him as wide of a range to choose from as possible. But it feels irredeemably strange, to appraise these people like this.

As they walk past the standing fountain, Shiro catches movement out of the corner of his eye. He looks up, and sees a creature with skin such a pale lavender that at first glance, he thinks the light’s tricking him. A canopy of black hair frames his face, almost comes down to his shoulders. Shiro only catches his profile at first, a sharp cheekbone, an adorable button nose. Plump lips. Eyelashes whose length surprises him with every one of the creature’s blinks. Two little ears stick up past tufts of thick black hair. The creature is picking at his nails, legs crossed. And for all the world, he looks uncomfortable.

“Keith, huh?”

He looks over at Taurus, at her knowing smile. He looks back over at the creature— Keith. At his hunched shoulders, the little furrow between his eyebrows. 

“Is he—?”

“Available? Yes. Anyone in the front room is available for calls. As Lord Omu surmised at once, even me.”

Shiro doubts that Regris’s advances had much to do with anything so astute as this, but he doesn’t say that.

“But he looks so…”

“Tense? Aye, he’s new. But, my lord, he is not without talent, I assure you. He would not be here otherwise.” Taurus places a smooth, slender hand on Shiro’s bicep.

“Come,” he urges gently.

Taurus leads Shiro to Keith. “Keith, we’ve been honored with a royal visit.”

Keith looks up from his nails, and Shiro keeps his eyes from widening, but just barely.

The boy was a vision from across the room. But up close? He’s surreal. Violet eyes the color of dusk blink up at him, expressive. Gods, the boy is an open book, with those eyes. He wants to ease it away, the shyness, the reservedness. But fuck if it doesn’t stir something awake inside him, something far less noble. 

“Lord Shirogane would like your company.”

Shiro stretches out a hand to the boy, smiles. “It is nice to meet you, Keith.”

Keith looks at his hand for a beat too long, like he’s not sure what to do with it. Shiro’s kicking himself, thinking  _ oh God, I just  _ had  _ to go and make this even more awkward— _

“Sir,” Keith replies, hesitantly placing his small hand inside Shiro’s. His remarkable eyes flitter up to Taurus momentarily, like he’s taking a cue. 

“I feel privileged by your choice.”

Keith stands, almost a full head shorter than Shiro. He takes Shiro’s hand again, looks up at him with eyes now edged with certainty.  _ Not without talent _ , Shiro remembers Taurus saying. The boy leads him through the room, past the standing fountain, and up the stairs. 

—

The room Keith leads him to is simple. No tapestries on the walls, nothing like the pleasure houses in Arus. 

Keith puts his hands against Shiro’s chest, urges him towards the bed. Shiro goes, moves backwards as gracefully as he can manage. He sits, and Keith climbs into his lap immediately, keeps his hands against his chest. The furrow between his brows is back.

“What’s wrong?” Shiro asks gently.

“You’re very…” Keith looks up at him, looks down again. “ _ Firm _ .”

Shiro laughs. “Life in Arus doesn’t keep me very idle.”

“You are a long way from Arus.”

Shiro smiles a little, hopelessly charmed by the nerves, the small hands against him.

“I am. The one thing that seems to do away completely with my appreciation for my

home is my continued presence there.”

Keith laughs a little—a sort of quiet, breathless thing—and Shiro finds himself becoming even more endeared.

“Could I help birth an appreciation for Easthedge as well, my lord?”

“Mmm, that would be most welcome.”

Shiro moves his hands to Keith’s hips, feels arousal blooming warm inside his belly. Before he knows it, Keith’s slipping from his lap, his arms. He moves smoothly to the ground, starts to unlace Shiro’s trousers.

“Wait,” Shiro tells him, taking one of his hands to stop him. His dick throbs in indignation. Keith looks up at him in confusion.

Shiro takes his hands to help him up. He directs him to the bed, lays him down on his back. His skin’s an unbelievable lilac against the cream-colored sheets.

He wears not a robe, but a simple chiton of white linen. Shiro pushes up the chiton, parts his legs to find his dick hard against his stomach. The boy pants under him, looks up at him with eyes shiny from the lantern lights and cheeks deeply flushed.

Shiro feels himself grow completely hard against the fabric of his smallclothes. 

“Are you always so expectant?”

“N-no. I’ve been like this since we were downstairs.”

Shiro feels himself groan lowly. He leans forward and takes Keith into his mouth, hands taut around his thighs. Shiro suckles his wet tip, dips his tongue into the slit until Keith is whimpering above him. He moves down, licks a path from his tip to his base. 

“You taste exquisite,” Shiro breathes into the crease where his thigh meets his leg. Because it’s true. Because back at court, honesty could get him flogged, but here, all it does is make Keith moan sweet. 

He keeps a steady rhythm, brings Keith to the back of his throat on every pass.

“ _ My lord, _ ” Keith whimpers, and Shiro brings one of his hands, where it had been clutching at the sheets underneath them, to his hair. Closes Keith’s slender fingers around some strands. Keith holds his hand there when Shiro lets go, grip wonderfully firm. Shiro wishes he’d pull it, but that could wait.

Shiro pulls off, looks down into Keith’s pretty face. His mulberry red lips, swollen from biting.

“Please,” Shiro tells him, as he leans in, “call me Shiro.”

Shiro kisses those lips, and Keith parts them almost immediately. Shiro thinks about him licking the taste of himself from his mouth, and feels his dick grow impossibly harder. Shiro kisses down Keith’s neck, careful not to leave any marks. But  _ gods _ , how he wants to. 

Shiro takes a moment to unwrap the chiton. He leaves Keith completely naked, bright pink nipples winking at him in the lantern light. They’re begging to be sucked, but something else wars for Shiro’s attention.

“Tell me,” he says as he kisses down Keith’s stomach, takes hold of his thighs again. “How do you like it, darling?”

He hooks Keith’s legs over his shoulders, looks up at him. The boy gasps a little.

“S-slow, but…”

“But?” Shiro presses, rubbing gentle little circles into the back of a smooth lilac thigh.

“ _ Rough _ ,” the boy breathes.

Shiro finds the boy’s entrance with his tongue. It’s a tight, pretty thing. Shiro assumes the boy had prepared himself earlier, but even so, he finds it deliciously snug—he tells Keith as much. 

“ _ Sir _ ,” Keith moans. But  _ gods _ , he already sounds beside himself. 

Shiro goes further, moves a hand from Keith’s thigh to his stomach to hold him down. Shiro keeps him still as he licks into him, gives the boy no recourse. Holds him steady with a big, firm hand to his heaving stomach, keeps his other hand tight behind a knee as he fucks him on his tongue.

And the boy is  _ wet _ . Stars above, he’s so fucking wet. Shiro expected the taste of some oil or some other kind of lubricant to meet him when he opened Keith up. What he finds inside of the boy is some kind of sweet, earthy moisture that makes Shiro groan into him. That earns him a particularly vigorous shudder from Keith.

“You’re delicious, Keith,” Shiro breathes into a quivering thigh, when he comes up for air. 

Shiro looks down at Keith’s entrance, watches it glisten with his own spit and the boy’s own slick (his  _ own _ slick!). He passes a questing thumb over the sensitive little thing, and the boy shudders.

“How much wetter can you get for me, darling?” Shiro murmurs. His voice is a soldier’s growl in his chest. He wouldn’t have been able to recognize it as his own if you held a sword to his throat.

When he looks up into Keith’s face, the boy has his plump bottom lip between his teeth. His eyelashes are wet, and his chest is heaving. Gods, he’s a dream.

“Would you like to find out?” Keith asks him, his voice cracked and overwhelmed. Shiro thinks he meant it to be sultry, but it just comes out earnest. It goes straight to his dick all the same.

Shiro replaces his thumb with a finger, and slips it in. The boy is as hot and tight around it as he was around Shiro’s tongue. But he opens up beautifully, and Shiro enters in one smooth slide.

“That’s it, darling,” Shiro urges, “open up for me.” 

“ _ Mmm _ .”

When Shiro slides his finger out, it’s soaked with Keith’s slick. 

“Can you take two?” Shiro asks, half teasing. He slips the single finger inside again, probes until he finds the spot that makes Keith arch away from the bed. The boy gasps like he’d just had the wind knocked out of him. Shiro moves his finger against that spot relentlessly. Keith’s dick is twitching crazily against his stomach, and Shiro feels his mouth water at the sight. He gives Keith a break to let him answer.

“I… can t-take whatever you give me…” the boy pauses. “ _ Shiro _ .”

So Shiro gives him two. Licks his lips at the sight before him—his thick fingers disappearing into tight, wet heat. He keeps Keith stuffed full, but only hits his sweetest spot on every other pass. The boy will reach his first peak of the night on his dick. 

When Shiro gives him the third finger, he brings his lips back to Keith’s and kisses him filthily. Strokes his tongue while he keeps him open on his fingers.

“ _ Shiro _ ,” the boy pleads, when Shiro pulls away to let him breathe. “I want your dick inside me. _ Fuck _ —” the boy groans low as Shiro hits his sweet spot with a devilish smirk, “L-let me come  _ with you inside me _ —”

And Shiro? Shiro’s so aroused he’s almost blind with it. He can hardly remember a time when he’d wanted to fuck someone this badly. He takes off his linen shirt, feels a surge of pride when Keith stares, wide-eyed, at his naked chest.

He smiles crookedly and teases, “The  _ firmness  _ that you felt earlier.”

By the time he’s gotten his trousers and his smallclothes off, he’s so hard he’s aching. He braces a hand behind one of Keith’s soft thighs, holds him open while he brings his dick to the tight little hole. He shifts forward, and the tip slips in. And holy shit, if he’d thought the boy felt amazing on his tongue and fingers? None of that could ever contend with the way Keith gripped his dick. It is like the boy is pulling him in. When he looks up, Keith’s biting his lip again, and there’s a clever little glint in his eye. He realizes that that’s exactly what’s happening.

“ _ Fuck _ ,” he curses, bracing both hands behind Keith’s thighs to spread the boy. 

When Shiro’s fully sheathed, he’s already lamenting his next departure from Keith’s tight heat. Gods, but he could stay inside this boy all fucking day. 

“Mmm… oh  _ sir _ . Fuck me, sir.  _ Fuck me _ .”

Shiro pulls out slow, as slow as he can muster. He pushes back in hard, sets Keith to whimpering louder than before. He remembers what the boy said, what he’d asked for— _ slow, but rough _ . 

His next thrust sends Keith a few inches up the bed, and Shiro watches the boy’s dick leak obscenely against his stomach. Shiro sets a pace that bangs the headboard against the wall behind them. He knows, technically, that it’s loud. But the only thing he can hear right now, the only thing he  _ wants  _ to hear right now, is Keith. Keith’s moans, Keith’s whimpers, Keith’s overwhelmed sobs whenever Shiro hits his sweet spot head-on with his dick. 

“ _ Gods _ ,” Shiro groans, “you open up so well for me.  _ Fuck _ , you’re tight.  _ You’re so tight _ . Do you like it, darling? How I stretch you?”

Keith nods below him, mouth open, brows furrowed. 

“Y-you’re so big, sir,” Keith moans, “I— _ fuck _ — _ I feel you everywhere _ . Harder, fuck me harder. I can take it,  _ I can— _ ”

Shiro cuts him off with a rough hit to his sweet spot, makes him mewl. The more Shiro fucks Keith, the harder Shiro fucks Keith, the wetter he gets. The tight, slick slide sets Shiro’s mind alight with arousal. Rose oil could never do that. He looks down at where they’re joined, where his dick splits Keith open. Watches his thick shaft disappear into the pretty little thing underneath him and knows—it won’t be long until he comes.

He leans down and wraps his arms around Keith’s tiny waist, keeps him on his dick as he sits back onto the bed. Keith’s in his lap now, impaled on the length of him. Shiro grips the boy’s hips and bounces him on his dick. Once, twice, three times. So hard Keith has to grip his shoulders for purchase. 

“You’re exquisite, aren’t you?” Shiro whispers against the lovely curve of his neck. He feels his end nearing. “Such a tight, pretty thing. I’ll come back for you— _ fuck _ —I’ll have to.”

“And I— _ agh, nhh _ —I-I’ll welcome you with open legs,  _ Shiro _ .”

Shiro knew he was nearing the end, but Keith’s breathless comment sets something loose inside him. He lifts the boy from his lap and roughly brings him to his hands and knees on the bed. Shiro enters him once more. Grips his hips, watches his soft, round ass cheeks slam against his thighs with the force of his thrusts. He’s not teasing Keith anymore, not trying to make him last so he can draw this out. He hits the boy’s spot on every single pass this time, sets the gorgeous thing to wailing.

“ _ Shiro, Shiro _ ,” he’s mewling, “ _ Oh my Gods— _ ”

And it’s only when Shiro reaches around for Keith’s dick that he notices the stark white come pooling on the burgundy sheets.

He came. He came, untouched.  _ Oh Gods _ .

Shiro intends to pull out, to bring himself off against Keith’s gorgeous lavender back. But the little minx clenches down, makes that sweet, tight hole even tighter. When Shiro looks up, Keith has his face in the sheets. He looks back at Shiro, eyes wet, cheeks red. Completely fucked out. But he’s wearing an encouraging little smile.

“Please keep going,” he tells Shiro, voice cracking. “Spill inside me, sir. Don’t you want to?”

And Shiro comes as abruptly as that storm. Spills inside Keith while the boy moans appreciatively. Shiro pants, leans forward to plant a kiss to Keith’s shaggy head while his dick softens inside the boy.

He leans back then, pulls out of Keith. As he watches his cum slip out of the boy’s hole, he feels his dick give a valiant twitch. 

“Can you reach your peak again?” Shiro asks lowly.

Keith looks back at him, eyes wide. “I… I don’t know...”

Shiro leans forward, taking a supple cheek in each hand.

“Will you let me find out?” Shiro traces Keith’s hole with a thumb, pushes some of his come back inside. The boy shivers.

“Y-yes.” He sounds bewildered. At his own answer or Shiro’s audacity, Shiro can’t be sure.

Shiro spreads Keith, slips his tongue back inside that hot little hole. The taste of his own cum with Keith’s natural slick is heady. Shiro feels himself getting hard again, but he ignores it in favor of licking himself out of Keith. Shiro feels more than he hears the boy sobbing into the sheets, overwhelmed. Shiro brings a hand to Keith’s dick where it’s grown completely hard dangling between the boy’s legs. Shiro strokes him once, twice, with his tongue deep inside the tight little channel. 

Keith comes with a beautiful cry.

Shiro’s hard again. Keith’s quivering beneath him. Sensitive, fucked out. Still on his hands and knees, the position Shiro had put him in. 

“You were so good for me,” Shiro praises him as he gently arranges him on his side, “so beautiful. Enchanting.”

Shiro presses against Keith’s back, slips his hard dick between those soft thighs.

“Can you close your legs for me, darling?” he asks.

“ _ Mmm _ ,” Keith assents.

“ _ Yes _ ,” says Shiro as he begins to thrust, “very good. You’re being a very good boy for me, Keith.”

“Shiro,” Keith moans as he turns his head towards him. The angle is awkward, but Shiro doesn’t care. He kisses him anyway, tongue inside his mouth again. Strokes the roof, licks inside like Keith tastes of the sweetest nectar. He comes with a muffled groan into Keith’s mouth.

They lay there for a little while, Shiro’s arm draped across Keith’s body. Keith’s back against Shiro’s chest.

“Do you fuck all your whores like that?”

Shiro lets out a startled little laugh. “I don’t, um… I don’t much frequent brothels.”

Keith reads between the lines, the clever little thing.

“I’m your first, then?” He sounds amused.

“Yes. I’m afraid you’ve corrupted me.”

Keith rolls over to look at him, and Shiro feels his breath catch in his throat. The boy is too pretty by half.

“You licked your spend from me, my lord. Don’t speak to me of corruption.”

**Author's Note:**

> prob gonna turn this into an AU, throw lance and lotor into the brothel. keep a horny eye out


End file.
